


let down your hair

by kiyala



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Crack, M/M, rapunzel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 03:24:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1494748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is walking along the road when a man stuck in a tower catches his attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let down your hair

**Author's Note:**

> This is just pure silliness.

"Hey." Enjolras hears a voice calling as he walks along the road. "Hey, you. The pretty one. Look up."

Enjolras is not a vain man, but nor is he blind. He looks up.

There's a tower a short distance away, and someone waving from him from the window right at the very top. He's impressed by just how loudly they must have yelled to be heard across the distance. Curious, Enjolras walks closer. 

"Oh, thank _fuck_ someone finally heard me," the voice calls from the window. It must be a large window, because there's a man leaning out of it. "I was wondering how much longer I would be stuck up here."

The tower is a beautiful, old construction, roughly two storeys high with ivy winding around its side, designs engraved into the brick on the outside. Enjolras hasn't seen buildings like this for a very long time.

"Are you even listening to me?" the man asks, and Enjolras looks up, blinking.

"I'm sorry, you were talking?"

The man above sighs loudly. "Rude. Terribly rude. I'm so offended, I can't even bear to look at you."

"Okay," Enjolras says with a shrug, and turns to leave.

" _Wait_!" the man calls. "I need your help."

Enjolras looks up again. "My help, you say?"

"Yes, you see. I need someone to free me."

Enjolras' eyes light up. "You need to be _liberated_?"

"Uh," the man says uneasily. "Yes?"

"What injustice has been done to you, my friend? How can I help you?"

"I just want to get down from here," the man says miserably. "I've been stuck in here for much too long."

"You've been trapped up there?" Enjolras exclaims. "What sort of monster would do that to you? Don't worry, I will rescue you. That's a promise."

"Yes," the man says. "I would like that very much."

"I just need to find a way to climb up to you to save you," Enjolras muses, looking around. "I don't think the ivy would support my weight, unfortunately."

"It's a shame the tower doesn't have any conveniently located footholds," the man muses. "I'm Grantaire, by the way."

"Enjolras, at your service. Do you have any rope that you could throw down for me?"

"Uh…" Grantaire turns around, presumably to look inside. "No, I don't think so."

"Wait, what's that?" Enjolras asks, taking a step back to look up at the window properly. "In the corner there? Is that a rope? The dark brown thing?"

"…Sure," Grantaire replies in a strained voice. "That's rope."

"Will you throw it down for me?" Enjolras asks, and is nearly smacked in the face with said rope in response. "Some warning would have been nice."

"Sorry," Grantaire calls down. 

"It's quite alright." Enjolras replies, taking hold of the rope. "I'm impressed by how well this is braided."

"Thanks. I did it myself."

"You braid your own rope?" Enjolras asks. "How long have you been stuck in this tower anyway? Never mind, you'll be free soon enough."

"I appreciate it," Grantaire mutters, just loud enough for Enjolras to hear.

Enjolras holds onto the rope tightly and pulls. Grantaire cries out in alarm. 

"Wait a second! Just—let me secure the, uh, the rope. Okay? Wait until I tell you to climb."

"Of course."

"Alright," Grantaire yells, a moment later. "You're good to go."

Enjolras pulls the rope taut and sets his foot against the surface of the tower, beginning his ascent. 

He's about halfway up when Grantaire sighs loudly. "You're really taking your time there, aren't you?"

"Excuse me," Enjolras huffs out. "I'm trying to help you here. The least you could do is be a little patient about it."

"Right, right, my bad." 

A few moments later, a thought occurs to him. "Why am I climbing this tower when you have rope, anyway? Shouldn't you be climbing _down_?"

"You're just saying that because you're tired, aren't you?" Grantaire asks.

Enjolras grits his teeth and keeps climbing.

Once he's finally reached the top, he stumbles through the window and leans against the wall, panting quietly. His gaze follows the rope in his hand to where it's tied to a post on the wall, and then to Grantaire's head. He drops it in shock.

"That was your _hair_?"

"I told you I didn't have any rope," Grantaire replies with a shrug.

"I climbed your _hair_."

"Let's look on the positive side, at least it wasn't my beard."

" _Augh_."

"You are so rude," Grantaire mutters. "Why are gorgeous people always so rude?"

"What," Enjolras sputters. "I'm not—"

He doesn't bother to finish that because again, he's not blind. And he is self-aware enough to realise that he _is_ a little rude.

"Why is your hair so _long_?" he asks instead, because it's longer than anything he's ever seen in his life. It coils around the room and that's not even including the fact that it's braided, or that there's still a great deal of it hanging out of the window.

"Enchanted," Grantaire mutters. "Cursed, maybe? I don't know. It doesn't stop growing and my step-mother keeps me in here. Which isn't so bad, really, because it's better than living with her, but it gets lonely sometimes."

"Can't you cut your hair?"

"I can," Grantaire shrugs, "but then it just grows back. I don't really see the point."

"Everyone's hair grows back," Enjolras points out. "You have to keep cutting it. That's just how things work." 

"Oh." Grantaire blinks. "That sucks."

"It does," Enjolras agrees. "But that's the way things go. Now, are we breaking you free from this tower or not?"

"Yeah, about that," Grantaire says as he unties his hair from around the post. "I was meaning to tell you. There's a door around the back."

"There's a _what_."

"A door," Grantaire repeats. "That leads to a staircase that comes all the way up here. Or, you know, that I could take down. It's locked, but I'm sure we could work our way around that between the two of us."

"And why the hell didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"I don't know! It's just—you were so earnest, trying to help. It was cute. I didn't want to get in the way of that."

Enjolras doesn't know whether he wants to throw Grantaire out of the window, or throw himself out of the window. He settles for doing both. Of course, he ends up sprawled on the grass with Grantaire landing heavily on top of him.

Grantaire sits up, rubbing his head. "That was fun. Can we go again?"

"I'm going to kill you," Enjolras tells him. He nudges Grantaire off him. "I'm pretty certain I'm actually going to kill you."

"Nonsense. We've bonded through our shared experience, Enjolras. You wouldn't kill me." Grantaire pauses when he sees Enjolras draw his short sword. "…Right?"

"I'm going to do us both a favour," Enjolras tells him, "and cut your hair before I want to cut your neck."

Grantaire stays very still. Enjolras holds Grantaire's hair and sets the edge of his blade to it. It cuts with a satisfying sound and Grantaire makes a strange, low sound at the back of his throat that definitely doesn't make anything coil in Enjolras' stomach at all. Whatsoever. 

"I feel light-headed," Grantaire murmurs. "Get it? Light-headed?"

"Nope," Enjolras says, "still want to kill you."

"You _freed me_ , brave knight. You should be feeling courageous, not homicidal."

"I'm not a knight," Enjolras mutters. "I'm a revolutionary."

"Oh," Grantaire says. He links their arms together. "I guess that will have to do."


End file.
